In Memoriam
by ArrowRox
Summary: In Memoriam: In memory of. Angsty, Seddie. T for dark and a few references. No clue where this came from.


**In Memoriam: In Memory Of**

It had been their thing, Freddie mused over his half empty glass of soda, staring at the crowd of people dancing wildly on the dance floor to the fast beat of the song. His and Sam's thing- coming here, talking over a few glasses of soda, dancing to the one particular song they played every Friday night at the same time, ending it with a kiss, walking away.

People would always watch them. Not that their routine changed, not that anything ever changed, but people loved them. They loved the mix of bodies, the chemistry, the way the dancers- Sam and Freddie- let everything else go, just focusing on each other.

The song, Hot Mess by Cobra Starship, wasn't even that great. In fact, it was neither Sam nor Freddie's taste in music, and Freddie, quite honestly, found the band _shitty. _But there was still something about it. Something about the rhythm, something about the off-singing of the singer, that made them do it.

They would always start the same way. His hands on her waist, her arms thrown up, her body grinding against his. They would speed up then, moving apart, the main attention on Sam, until she found him again, and they'd dance together for the refrain. Then, when the second verse started, they'd drift apart one more time, this time Freddie being the focus. After that, Sam started out on the table, until, a few seconds later, Freddie would join her, and eventually, half the club was up, dancing on tables.

Freddie would jump down and Sam after him, landing safely in his arms, twirling around a bit. They'd dance around each other, pretty much the whole club watching them, until, at the final beat, always, their lips would land on each other's for a few seconds.

After that, it was always different. Sometimes, Sam would leave immediately, sometimes Freddie would. Sometimes, they'd spend the next song, a slow dance, together, swaying slowly around their spot in the middle of the dance floor, suddenly forgotten by the crowd of people, themselves just two innocent teenagers dancing. Sometimes though, they'd kiss longer, trying to make it last.

It was just their thing. People came especially to see them. But not anymore. A tear slid town Freddie's face, himself unaware of what would happen that night. Sam wasn't there; she'd never come again. He felt like getting up, tearing the club to pieces, shouting out at them to stop being happy; the love of his life just died for god's sake!

As the song before theirs started to play, the past week and turmoil flashed inside his head. The drama, the hate, the struggle. Everything. Losing Sam.

It had started when Carly had seen them walking home together, Freddie's arm resting gently on Sam's shoulder. They had never expected Carly to find out; the club was on the opposite side of Seattle, where Sam lived, and Carly rarely came over to Sam's place; Sam would always go to Carly's.

From the moment Carly found them, it had been nothing but drama. Carly had been on her way to Sam's to ask Sam for advice on asking Freddie out, and she wouldn't talk to them. Carly didn't let them into her apartment, didn't acknowledge them in the hallways, she pretended they didn't exist.

Unfortunately, that was also the week of the school dance. People had expected Sam and Freddie to go together, seeing as a rumor had miraculously made its way around that they were dating, which they weren't. They were just Sam and Freddie. They were in love, but neither knew it. So, asking each other to the dance didn't occur to either of them. They each showed up with their own dates- Sam with a boy with whom she ditched class often, though it was common knowledge he was gay, and Freddie with an eager girl from his advanced chemistry class.

Therefore, it was odd, how the night ended. How at exactly eleven thirty they found themselves at the middle of the dance floor, the song beginning to play, them falling into their routine. Everything was perfect, their synchronized movement, the interacting with the crowd, everything.

Except when the dance ended and they just collided, in a sweet, small kiss that had become so usual. But it had shattered Carly's world. The brunette had stormed out, drawing all attention to the slamming of her door. Sam and Freddie had run after her, caught up with her, trying to tell her that it meant nothing; it was just something they did. That didn't help of course, and Carly crossed a street and Sam had tried to follow her, but the car didn't see Sam.

Freddie had been paralyzed, unable to move. Sam just one more time looked around before she was thrown by the impact of the car, her body slumping and emitting a dull thud as she landed on the street, blood spilling out around her. It was no use, Freddie knew, as he ran towards her, Sam had been dead upon impact. That was the downside to having a small body.

As the playing sing ended, Freddie automatically got up, making his way to the middle of the dance floor. He didn't know what he was going to do, but right as he was about to leave again, he felt his arms being placed on the slim hips of the brunette standing in front of him. Carly. As she leaned closer, she whispered in his ear: "_For Sam_".

From then on, it was the same routine again, but Freddie felt horrible. It was almost as if he were dirty dancing with his own sister. The crowd didn't seem to notice though, except for the few that were there absolutely every single time; those people turned away, not liking the chemistry between Carly and Freddie.

When the song ended and Carly leaned in to him, expecting the kiss he always gave Sam though, he pushed her roughly away. He turned and ran, not bothering to pay for his drink, not bothering to grab his coat, just running. He ran for what seemed hours, until he got to an alley about hallway between the club and Sam's house. He ran to the back and crouched, pulling out three loose bricks and grabbing a can of spray paint he and Sam had stashed there at some point.

He shook the paint well, before spraying in large purple letters, over the mesh of other graffiti he and Sam had left there:

**IN MEMORIAM: SAM PUCKETT**

That was the first time he actually broke down, crying, bawling his eyes out like a baby.

_**Was feeling sad and angsty after and during the song 'In Memoriam' by Les Choristes, so I wrote this. Don't ask. **_


End file.
